


The tower.

by BLUEBERRYBLAZES



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Dream Smp, Villain Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLUEBERRYBLAZES/pseuds/BLUEBERRYBLAZES
Summary: There stood the tower, in its painful glory. Where had the boy gone? Why had he gone? There were too many questions that will probably remain unanswered. For eternity people would be wondering, pondering the answers to these questions. Would there be solace in knowing the answer to that? Too many questions for something so simple to understand.The boy was gone.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	1. Where?

**Author's Note:**

> This may not be the most well written thing I've done. It's my first time writing using ao3.  
> This work will have no romance, NSFW, etc. If that's the type of thing you're looking for it won't be here, or on my account. Neither will this work have aspects of romance, as I do not want to cross anybodies boundaries. If I do, please do tell me as my intent is to avoid that. Thank you and I hope you enjoy =)

Feet met the floor. Running. They were running. Noise shot through the forest, the sound of someone gasping for air, the sound of fallen leaven crunching underfoot. The pace quickened, like the rhythm of a drum. It was constant, no breaks or stops. Where they running from something? Or to something? Did it matter? People run all the time. For fitness, for fun, for escape. People truly do run all the time.

Eyes darted upwards, their face contorting into an expression that is one of the worst to see on people - lost. They weren't, but they felt it. Their feet caught up underneath them, falling to a solemn halt. A halt of realization. The tower stood in all its cruel glory, climbing up high into the sky, sneering down at those who dare question its power. The stone it was made out of lay chipped, cracked. Grooves within the pebbles, alleyways within the material. Rushed. The tower had been made in a rush. Why? They didn't know, they just knew it was there.

They also knew he was gone.

Was it the tower? Was that it? Was that why he was gone? The person stood for a few moments, the pieces connecting in their brain. It was all one big, wicked puzzle they had to figure out. They didn't want to figure it out. They didn't want to allow the pieces to come together. Maybe it would be best to stay in denial, to never put everything together. Maybe that would be for the best. Ignore the ugly conclusion. Denial is bliss, right? 

But people can't keep lying to themselves forever.

They just couldn't understand where. Where had he gone? There was no trace of him here, no trace of him anywhere. Wasn't this what he wanted? For him to be gone? That's what they wanted. That why the exiled him. So now, why were they choking back cries? It didn't make sense. It was hypocritical for them to be upset. This is what they had wanted. They got it.

That was a lie. They didn't want this, they didn't. They wanted to know where. Where had Tommy gone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used 'they' for Tubbo and 'he' for Tommy in this chapter so people can tell between the two as the chapter is intended to not use names. I'm not changing genders. The different pronouns are for clarity. This chapter is very short as it is more of setting things up for the story itself. Thank you for reading, and if you'd like you can leave constructive criticism =)


	2. Why?

Eyes. Tommy peered through the trees, a sense of anger welling up within him. There was his friend. No. His enemy. His enemy had decided to come looking, and at the sight of him gone, had been the one to be upset. Why would he? He was the one to exile him. Tubbo wanted this, not him. Tubbo never visited, Tubbo never seemed to think about how this exile would affect him. And now he's the one upset? The anger only grew as he peered over at the person he used to call a good friend, even his best one. How dare he? How dare he do this? Exile him only to feel remorse when he actually leaves. It was a flurry of emotions, seeing his friend there. He was angry, of course he was. But guilt flowed through his veins too. It was subtle, barely even a whisper in the back of his mind. 

Maybe Tubbo didn't want this. Maybe he had to exile him.

No. This was Tubbo's fault. He did this. Not Tommy. Tommy had the right to be angry, he had the right to feel the way he did. Betrayal. That's what he felt. An ugly mix of anger and betrayal. It had slowly boiled inside of him over the past few weeks. Now it has spilled over.

Moving further into the forest, he remained light on his feet. He would ignore those feeling for now. No need to dwell on them. For now he had to get out of here. If someone saw him he didn't know what he'd do. He didn't know what he'd say. So he was getting away. He was going. He could think about those things later.  
-  


It wasn't until an hour later he found the stream dancing in between the trees. It inter-wined through the area, weaving in and out, in and out.The gentle hum of the water traveling downstream filled his ears. A peaceful symphony of sorts. Untying his shoelaces, Tommy let his eyes scan over the bed of the stream. There lay a few rocks, calloused by the water flowing tediously off of them. Shades of grey, white and brown danced within the sediment, a mosaic of stones and pebbles. It was peaceful here, the aura of calm hanging in the air like a much welcomed fog. Birds whistled in the distance, a tune that lacked the sorrow and pain that Logstedshire had managed to trap in its oppressive grasp. A sense of relief washed over the boy and as he exhaled, it appeared that all the anger simply washed away, much like the water besides him.

The water was cold, despite the rather cherry weather. One could call it refreshing. The water would only reach up to someones ankles. Plunging his foot into the water, he tried to ignore the freezing feeling climbing up the bottom half of his leg. It wasn't a bitter cold, not the cold that clings to you in the harsh winters. Not the cold that causes coughs and snivels. It was simply a nice cold. Tying his shoes to the hook of his backpack, Tommy started making his way down the stream.

Time didn't seem to make sense as he trudged along that brook. How long had he been walking for? It could've been minutes, hours. There wasn't a clue in his mind to how long it had been. With each small sound of him putting his foot down into the space below him, the world seemed to get further and further away. It seemed like his destination was too. He felt as if he had been walking for so long, but there was no result to it. No reward for the things he had done. yeah, L'Manberg was great, but that was plucked out of his hands every time he thought he had it cemented in them. He had worked so hard to get to where he was. And, seemingly, it was all for nothing. Nothing at all.

Something within him told him that it wasn't. That it would all come right in the end. 3 times the charm, right? 3 times and everything would be okay. That thought burned. Not like a fire, not like a candle. It burnt like an ember. Barely even there. Barely even noticed. But, with the right kindling, embers can turn into roaring fires. Most the time though, they get ignored.

Leaving hadn't been a hard thing to do. The idea had dwelled in his mind over the past few days now. It was just making sure all loose ends were tied. Now they were, he had gone. It made sense for him too. L'Manberg held no glory anymore. It no longer had the title of somewhere you could escape brutality. It was brutality.

L'manberg had become the one thing it aimed to destroy.  
That's why Tommy was leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, heres the second part. Sorry that the chapters are relatively short, I like to keep them to a subject and generally it stays quite short =)  
> Shameless self promo though - my twitter is @0FCIVEMETJARED if you wanna ykyk check that out.  
> I hope whoevers reading this enjoyed it.


	3. What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all payne no liam

It was the snapping of twigs that alerted Tommy to whatever was stalking the banks of the stream.

With a fluid motion, the thing was dead.

It was as if something overtook him in moments like that. As if he was a child learning to write, their parent holding their hands over the child's, guiding them slowly. However, in this situation the thing guiding him was a brutal mix of instinct and fear. The 'thing' would reduce him to panicked breaths as he lashed out at whatever approached.

This time it was only a sheep.

Only a sheep, that's it. That's all it was. A measly sheep, that had no way of hurting him. All of it seemed utterly ridiculous. There was no reason to act like that over a small noise. None. So why was he doing it? That was something he couldn't figure out for the life of him. What was going on?

Pushing those types of idea to the back of his mind, he looked back over to the sheep on the bank beside him. The sun had set. How did he not notice that? How did he not notice the sharp wind cutting through the forest like a blade? How could he not notice the cold? The hideous cold creeping up and him from all angles. It was freezing, the water now like ice against his ankles, rushing around them. The cold cut into his skin, an injury with no remnants. Everywhere, the cold was everywhere. There was no running, no fighting. You can't fight the cold. You can only ease it. And right now, he had nothing to ease it.

Stepping up onto the bank, the feeling of the grass was more foreign than it should've been. It was as if he was estranged from the world, reduced to a mere visitor on this plane. It was all so freezing, all of it. Pouncing on him, the cold had his teeth clashing together, the violent hum filling the area around him in a thin blanket of noise. Slipping his shoes on quickly, Tommy quickly made his way down through the forest, trying to ignore the cold burning against his arms. It doesn't make sense how cold can burn. It's supposed to be the opposite. It's supposed to stop the warmth. But then again, things aren't always as they're supposed to be.

The bitterness was getting to him now as he picked up his pace, setting off on a run. It was getting dark, anyway. There was no point in risking what was dangerous right now. He had places to be. Grass tore under-foot as he moved quickly through the trees. It was so close, it was almost as if he could reach out and grab it. However, the further he reached out, the more he leaned over the hypothetical ledge to reach for what he was searching, the more he felt himself loose balance. The he felt himself falling over the ledge.

A lantern. Alone in the small cavern. There was barely enough room to fit three people in there. It flickered in the oncoming wind. Don't let the light go out. Don't. Don't let that happen. It couldn't. The flame weakened, welcoming the oncoming darkness with the last of it's force it had. Violent flicking had filled the lantern. Dancing with an enemy. But you can't fight nature. You can't fight the the wind, just as you can't fight the cold.

The flame went out.

Tommy broke out of the treeline, the cavern just in his view. The hole in the hill, the evil liar, **Pogtopia**. He couldn't keep up with his own legs as he bolted to the haphazard door, tearing it open quickly. Fast-paced breathing filled the small room in the hill, echoing down the staircase a few feet away from him. It bounced through the cobblestone walls, reflecting straight back at him.

The lantern's flame was gone.

"Wilbur?"

No answer. None.

There was no flame in the lantern.

Waiting a few moments for a reply, Tommy felt his heart rise to his throat.

~~**The flame was gone.**~~


	4. Huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out I've had a lot going on with school and it didn't save either so yeah :] enjoy  
> This is by no way to reflect the real ccs emotions, this is based on the characters they portray in the dream smp.
> 
> TW // injury, panicking (??)

No one answered as Tommy ran down the cobbled stairs, hands pressing up against the sharp rocks that made up the walls of their former home.

There was still no answer as the boys eyes scanned across the cavern, peering for something, anything, a sign that someone else was there to help.

There was still no answer as thoughts clouded, morphing into an indecipherable mess.

There was still no answer as Tommy hit the floor.

Stirring, the light blared down into his eyes, scorching at it victim. It must have been the afternoon, the sun shining down its subtle fury into the cavern. Allowing himself to roll over, screaming pain ricocheted across his body. Fuck. He was bruised at the very least, that was for sure. Why did he even leave? Dream was his friend, Dream cared. But did he though? he was horrible, manipulative even. These thoughts only made Tommy squeeze his eyes shut harder, trying to block out the words of little reassurance.

Of course Dream wasn't his friend. This was all a chess game to the man. Nothing but that. See, with chess, you have to know what your opponent is going to do next. Of course there's the tedious fact that you have to know how to play the game, but planning ahead is the most important part. The L'Manberg war - the **first** L'manberg war was the act of Dream making his first move. Moving a pawn one of two spaces, figuring out how your opponent works. That fight, that battle, had allowed him to do that. In chess, sacrifices have to be made. You can't go the whole game without loosing a few pieces. Sometimes those pieces are the ones you want to keep, the ones you want to hide behind a barrier. But sometimes, things don't you as planned. This is often the point where people with a short temper flip the board.

Tommy had flipped the board by running away.

A shuffling could be heard within the midst of the cavern, a slight noise. The creaking of stairs long in disuse. The boy felt himself panic, feeling the terror rise in his gut as the sound grew closer. His body tensed, trying to control his rapid breathing. 

"Tommy?" A voice called out into the cavern, the voice projecting around the ravine. He couldn't tell who it was, he just, couldn't. Perhaps it was the adrenaline. The slight shale to the boys movements. he pressed his back up against the wall, feeling the stones prod and poke at his skin. Mocking him. How dare he get so scared? How dare he? It was just a voice.

The footsteps drew closer, getting slower and slower with each patter of a shoe making contact with the floor. They were looking for something. They were looking for him. Why were they looking for him? Shit shit shit what if it was dream what if he was here what if he was gonna drag him back to logstedshire - no. He couldn't let himself so worried about this. He could fight them off like he did every other time. This wasn't like him, he would never react like this. A tap on the shoulder. "Dream I can give you my stuff I promise I just wanted to get out of Logstedshire for a while. Dream I promise I'm so sorry." "Huh?" Tubbo looked down at his old companion, quivering at the slightest touch. He didn't like it. "Tommy it's just me" Why was he acting like this? This wasn't like him at all.


End file.
